


Macrosmatic

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Legolas is excused from the stench of mortals.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	Macrosmatic

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He hears the footsteps coming from a distance, though they’re whisper soft, picking through the dead leaves across the forest floor with an ingrained sense of caution. Legolas remains where he stands, on guard at the top of the hill, facing outwards through the trees, though the footsteps approach him from behind. He doesn’t need the dim starlight to see the one that’s coming. He recognizes that gait and the hushed hum of their breath. Then a solid warmth flattens into his back, thick arms wrapping around his middle, and Legolas’ breath hitches at the strength with which he’s pulled into that embrace.

“How may I help you, Estel?” Legolas asks. Aragorn holds him tightly, giving him no room to turn around, but Legolas wouldn’t even if he could. He fulfills his duty, keeping lookout for all the others sleeping. He can hear Gimli’s snoring all the way down the hill. Aragorn’s hands gently stroke his front, caressing him right through his tunic, but the focus of Aragorn’s interest is his hair. Aragorn buries himself in it and audibly inhales. The noise he makes afterwards pleased and approving. 

“You smell lovely, my friend,” Aragorn murmurs, nosing through the golden strands that tumble over Legolas’ shoulder. He can feel Aragorn’s coarse stubble tickling his scalp in certain places. “After so many days without a stream, the rest of us reek, made worse by the lot of us together. But you...” He trails off with a chuckle, fingers lifting to twist around a few locks that trail down Legolas’ front. Legolas finds himself smiling for more than the complement— _for Aragorn’s ardour_. He arches into it but still doesn’t turn to meet it.

Personally, Legolas has never minded finding Aragorn out in the wild, when he’s slick with sweat and the stench of raw _Man_ —but Aragorn is a special creature, who’s musk calls to Legolas like nothing else. He can admit the others are less pleasant. Gimli and Boromir in particular are in sore need of a bath, and even the little hobbits are beginning to stink like swine. Legolas bears them without judgment, for everywhere is less pleasant-smelling to him than the woods of his home. 

Perhaps Aragorn feels the same way about Rivendell. Legolas purrs, “I am happy to aid you.”

Aragorn chuckles. He draws a few strands back and kisses Legolas’ neck, something that has Legolas’ lashes fluttering—he must remind himself of his duty. Aragorn hums into his ear, “This is no good, my friend. You smell _too_ sweet, and it makes me thirst for other things.”

Legolas fully understands. He agrees, “I must stand watch.”

“Yes...” Aragorn slowly muses. “Stay there... but perhaps I may move for both of us.” The kiss comes again, fiercer, bruising, Aragorn’s blunt teeth digging down into his flesh, and Legolas moans delightedly for that fervor. Aragorn orders, “Pay attention,” and Legolas does so, looking out through the trees as his lover’s skillful hands slip into his tights, always knowing exactly what he needs.


End file.
